


fml

by goodkid



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other, angsty, i hate myself and i want 2 die, one-sided, whatever i don't know what else to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodkid/pseuds/goodkid
Summary: some nights, joel’s mind wanders and he can’t stop it.





	fml

**Author's Note:**

> skrillmau5 is dead!

some nights, joel’s mind wanders and he can’t stop it. nights like this. it’s 2014 and it’s dark in toronto. and he’s thinking about sonny.

he can’t help himself. earlier today he took sonny and dillon on a coffee run in the new ‘rari. he hadn’t seen sonny in months, years, however long it really was; it felt like forever. before they picked him up from his hotel dillon had asked joel if he was excited to see sonny. he said it in this voice like he knew something that he couldn’t say out loud. almost like he was teasing joel. all he could think was  _what the fuck does this kid know?_

when he gets home he gets to work on the video straightaway. he watches the footage in a haze, with his eyes hanging on to sonny’s every move. he almost can’t finish editing because he’s so out of it. ok, yeah, he  _was_  excited to see sonny, but it was completely innocent! it’s nothing but innocent these days. or at least it’s supposed to be, fucking dillon– why’d he have to make it  _weird_?

he watches the footage roll on his computer monitor. in the video, joel hits the accelerator to show off for his friends. dillon and sonny both cheer! or at least he sees that now– in the moment he was only hearing sonny’s reaction. he can’t lie to himself– it was all he was listening for in that moment. when joel hits the gas sonny lets out this brilliant gasp, he laughs with joy, and his hair flies around like wild from the back seat of the drop-top. watching it over again makes joel wince. but it’s not really like he needed to see it over again: joel watched it in the rearview mirror as it happened, and sonny’s sweet exclamation stuck in his head for the rest of the ride– playing over and over again until joel just couldn’t stand it.

god, that kid is adorable. he’s just as sweet as he was in 2010 when joel met him. that’s not all, though. joel bites his lip thinking about the line of thought he’s about to go down. he knows it well and he warns himself not to do this to himself. it’s pointless and he knows that, too, so he leans back in his desk chair and lets it happen.

sonny and joel both had drinking problems, back when they ran the same circuits. it was just a coincidence– a sign of the times, maybe. joel has since sobered up (mostly), but maybe sonny hasn’t. he doesn’t know. 2011, 2012– a different story. there they’d be, both stuck in some loud, crowded place for the weekend, full of idiots rolling so hard their eyes are bulging out of their skulls and bad music and people joel avoids like the plague. and sonny would be there, sloppy drunk, and if joel wasn’t already drunk, too he’d really need to be now.

in 2010 when they met, joel knew skrillex was going to blow up. he knows talent. he knew it from the first 30 seconds of scary monsters and nice sprites.

but when he met sonny– the real person sonny, not  _skrillex_  –he almost couldn’t control himself. sonny was–  _is_ – just so fucking  _sweet._  the way he’d approach joel in a crowd and hug him and somehow manage to pull joel out of his own thoughts and into some genuine conversation. it was too much. the way he would dance so wildly, on stage and off, too, so full of energy, and the way he would  _bawl_  at every little thing. the way joel could make sonny laugh so hard he’d be in  _tears_ – it was too easy. sonny charmed joel so quickly that joel didn’t even try to stop it from happening, and the worst part was that everyone around them could tell.

joel made up a nickname for sonny, even, and at that point any discretion he was trying to show went out the window. his little  _goblin_. it was easy to play off in theory, but no matter how handsy sonny was with his other friends and no matter how obviously drunk either of them was it was plain just how badly joel wanted him.

here is the part where joel usually tries so hard to stop himself. this is the point of no return. sometimes he starts at this point. sometimes he’s already in the middle of jerking off– watching porn, thinking about nothing –and suddenly he’s thinking about sonny’s fingers in his mouth and running rough hands through the kid’s dirty hair and sonny begging for it  _harder, please, fuck, fuck, joel–!_  and suddenly his orgasm hits him–  _so good so fucking good_ – and he’s clawing at his own skin and swearing as he listens to his heart in his ears, slowly returning to a normal pace.

it’s true what everyone was thinking. it got to the point where they were calling each other across oceans and time zones to listen to each other breathe. every time they were together joel couldn’t stop smiling. he was so much  _easier_  than usual around sonny– less on edge, laughing hysterically at the littlest things.

joel groans. he replays that moment in the coffee run footage where sonny jumps out of his skin. sonny’s so…  _sensitive_ , joel thinks. for how touchy-feely sonny is he sure is a jumpy guy. so easily startled. so easy to tease.

joel can’t help the hitch in his breath as he begins to remember the way sonny’s lips felt when they used to kiss, the way he’d gasp at the first contact. they’d kiss so much, more than joel kissed his girlfriends sometimes. he’d seem to tower over the kid but he’d jump at any chance to lean down and reciprocate all that unrelenting sugary-sweet affection sonny piled on joel like it was his life’s fucking work. sonny liked him, he really liked him! it made joel’s heart skip a little.

he remembers sonny’s text messages:

_‘imiss u leoj’_

_‘r u in town?’_

_‘i wanna see uu’_

_‘can u come meet me??’_

joel’s pulse is picking up a little. all these thoughts swimming around– he can’t finish this video tonight. fuck no. he gets up to lie down in bed. he knows he’s not gonna fall asleep but he knows he can’t stay in the studio right now.

he’s alone in bed, mind still racing, still thinking– he feels a little warm. he pulls off his clothes to get ready for bed.

joel closes his eyes. he still wants sonny sometimes– even to this day. the kid entrances him, always has. he turns joel on so much. he couldn’t count on his fingers the times he’d dragged sonny away from a crowd of friends in some public place and into his parked car, a bathroom or some dark and secluded corridor, just so he could put his  _hands_  on him.

he still wants sonny  _now_. that’s  _really_  the sad part. to this day whenever his friends talk about sonny to joel they do it in this teasing way, just like the way dillon had. joel had never talked about it, really, to anyone, but did he even have to? he runs his shaking hands over his head. ok, he’s getting too worked up now– just like he thought he would. what will his sadistic conscious use against him tonight?

god, he thinks, if he had sonny here right now he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. what a gorgeous creature sonny is. maybe he’d be laughing or telling some hyperactive anecdote that goes nowhere (it’d make joel smile anyway) but joel would be slipping his hands under sonny’s black shirt to feel the skin of his chest and stomach, sliding his own long fingers just underneath the low waistband of sonny’s tight skinny jeans,  _so fucking tight_. he’d be letting himself be suffocated under the sweetest open-mouthed kisses and letting sonny crawl all over him like a kitten.

he wants to see him naked again. sonny’s got an ass like a girl and these soft, gentle shoulders and the most gorgeous, sweet, thick, creamy thighs. his hips were always so fleshy and joel would just grab them, savoring the feeling. joel  _moans_.

they used to play this game– back when they did things like that. the game was to see the craziest spot they could hook up in. sonny loved it. he would giggle so much sometimes that joel would have to cover the kid’s mouth with a free hand.

joel slides a hand over the growing tent in his underwear. he isn’t sure he wants to do this– why can’t he let sonny  _go_?– but he’s come this far. he rubs his cock through the fabric and shuts his eyes hard so he can think.

the last time he and sonny had  _really_  hooked up was almost 2 years ago. that was the first, maybe, time that sonny had absolutely fucking  _taken_  joel. he was coming into his own, he’s  _skrillex_ for fuck’s sake, and though he was and is and will always be the same kid who would drop everything to be at fucking _disney world_  at any given moment, he was like, this big shot now, too, joel guesses. he’d probably had a lot of raver girls at ultra by then and he even heard sonny had fucked  _kavinsky_  of all people. 

that time, sonny had breathed into his mouth, ‘ _do you want me to fuck you?_ ’ and joel felt it in his gut, felt all the oxygen escape the room. ‘ _fuck yes_ ’ he told sonny, ‘ _do you even have to fucking ask?_ ’

sonny had bent joel over a table or a counter– joel can’t remember now –and used this force joel had never felt before. he was propped up on his elbows and burying his head in the space there and cursing, ‘ _fuck, oh my god, sonny–_ ’ almost  _whimpering_ , with sonny using his, apparently, huge arms to hold joel down and flush against the table. sonny curled his own body to be pressed against joel’s back. he figured sonny probably wanted to say some filthy things into joel’s ear as he fucked him but sonny, being  _sonny_ , was using all of his energy just doing what he was doing, so he just softly moaned and panted, hot, in joel’s ear. joel reached up to hold one of sonny’s hands and they both squeezed hard, harder as they got closer and closer. (joel swears he almost came when their fingers touched.)

but that was just the last time they had  _sex_  sex, if that’s a distinction you could make. that was a long time ago. they’ve seen each other a handful of times since then.  joel searches his mind for the true last time he’d hooked up with skrillex as he slowly starts to stroke himself in earnest.

it was about a year ago. maybe less than that. joel’s mind is blanking on the details right now. he squirms in the bed as the memory comes to him. he’s shaking a little, and something feels  _wrong_  in his chest. he remembers sonny being uncharacteristically sober. they were together at… joel’s house? a hotel room? whatever, he can’t remember. he wants this to get over with now, please, god, before it starts getting fucking  _depressing_.

sonny had dropped to his knees in front of joel– he feels like it was somewhere public, because when was it not? –and peeled away joel’s pants with so much perfect precision and grace that joel just had to laugh. the kid’s insane. but joel remembers how much he was shaking just watching sonny before him like that and it humbles him a little, the embarrassment at the memory. this is no time to revel. pathetic. just get yourself off,  _zimmerman_.

he’d seen sonny on his knees like this a million times but this time felt like the first time. they hadn’t been on the best terms the last few months. they were hardly speaking. there was a strange kind of light in sonny’s eyes when he looked up at joel through his eyelashes. his glasses were pushed up on top of his head and out of the way. (joel pauses the memory, starting to stroke a little faster, breathe a little heavier.) the love that had always been there was still there, it was just so much further away– fuck, fuck, he’s breathing out of control now. he squeezes the base of his cock and takes a second to steady himself.

sonny takes joel’s dick (already hard and  _leaking_ ) into his mouth and he can’t control the shocked sound that his mouth makes, and a hand flies up to shove fingers between teeth because  _you’re gonna melt, joel_. nobody unravels him like this.

sonny takes it all in his mouth, all the way to the base, nose meeting joel’s body. sonny’s moaning like a whore as he bobs up and down, mouth so wet he’s drooling. joel’s almost drooling too, fuck–

he’s so close. he’s bucking into his own hand at irregular intervals and biting  _hard_  on his knuckles. he might have a fucking panic attack if he doesn’t–

joel’s fingers are shaking, watching sonny suck his dick. they’re pulling gently on sonny’s hair. he’s watching how easily sonny takes his cock down his throat, wonders could he fuck sonny’s face– could he take it? when did sonny learn how to deep throat like this, anyway? he didn’t use to do this. when did– when did that happen? who taught him? his legs are still shaking.

_‘s-sonny, shit–’_

his mind is short-circuiting mulling over the details. did someone teach him to do that in the time they’d been apart? who did sonny belong to now? does joel– does joel wish it was still him? was it  _ever_  him?

in the memory, joel moans,  _‘sonny, i’m–’_

and in his bed in toronto he’s so close, so close, he’s gonna cum, oh my god–

sonny says, _‘i love you so much joel–’_  and joel’s eyes start to roll back in his head and wait a minute, did he just make that part up or did sonny really– oh god, he’s coming down sonny’s throat–

“oh my god,  _fuck-_ -!” joel bites his knuckle even harder and he breaks the skin a little this time. fuck, he’s coming, shit– he’s trembling, coming all over his hand and his stomach. fuck.

he collects himself after a minute and begins the process of pushing sonny out of his mind again. he examines the hand that he bit and it’s bleeding more than he thought.  _that’s gonna leave a scar_ , he thinks. he gets up to take a shower. 

**Author's Note:**

> meeeeemorieee all alone in the moooooonlighttt


End file.
